Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (43 page)

She'd
had a long time to experience and endure the gross cruelty of man; she was so
much more aware than most women of just how unfair and close-minded hard-eyed
men could be. For instance, whenever their hunters caught a female member of
her family, they would torment her forever before ramming home the disgusting
hawthorn stake. Yes, she really did support the women’s movement for Equal
Rights. It was so very long past frigging time! As she gathered her fury and
easily snapped her bonds, she assured the suddenly cowering Nathan she would take
the precious petition papers and bank draft she saw discarded off to one side,
as well as any other sparkling treasures lingering in the shadows. The Women's
Movement–
Her
Movement–needed funds. It was time women
got…no,
demanded
their equal treatment. Feeling faint with a most
demanding red thirst, she thought momentarily of food. Hardly in the mood for
seafood, she was growing frightfully hungry. Allowing her gleaming fangs to
fully emerge, she slashed open the first of many croaking throats with her long
nails, and bent her eternally pretty head to drink. Catching Nathan's finally
understanding, horrified glare, she pursed her pretty blood smeared lips into a
petulant pout; promising the most passion-filled of dark kisses. She believed
it was only fair. After all, she should have an equal right…to feed.

ABOUT
JACK OSPREY

Jack
Osprey lives in New England with his wife, curious calico cat, laid-back husky,
and never enough marine fish. He still believes in rescuing damsels in
distress; just not too quickly. Although he has two grown kids, he still keeps
a light burning nightly and a close vigil on his thumping closet door. It’s
only recently that he’s started letting some of his demon spawn slither forth,
manifesting themselves on his monitor. Expect more; the closet is quite full.

The Lion Chronicles

By
J.L. Dillard

PROLOGUE

He
slipped out the back door and headed down the rocky trail leading into the
woods. He usually shifted the minute he crossed the pond, but tonight he felt
like being human until he delved deeper into the woods. It was a dangerous
move, but he was confident he could outwit any foe, man or beast. The night air
was cool on his skin and he suspected waiting until the moon descended before
beginning his hunt would give him the edge. For years he had trespassed on the
land of Tracara to hone his skills as a shifter, and he knew the land better
than anyone in these parts. From the time he was fifteen, Braden had known he
was different from all the other kids. As days turned into months, and then
into years, he noticed how his friends had begun to age and he remained the
same. It wasn’t until his grandfather sat him down and explain his heritage did
he understand the significance of his special gift. He thought of it as
special, but not everyone shared in his delight. Namely, his parents. His
parent’s hadn’t bothered telling him about the genetic shifting that penetrated
his family roots. They figured he was better off not knowing about the
transformation they believed to be a curse. Nor did they approve of him acting
on the impulses that charged him every night.

Braden
drank in the wild ambience of prey and walked confidently amongst the thicket
of tall grass and forest of trees. The fresh scent of blood dangled in the air
and intoxicated him, promising to provide the sustenance he needed. It had been
nearly a week since he last fed, and his appetite was ravenous. Deep in the
marsh area, he allowed his keen senses to survey the darkness around him. He
had learned the area quite well and knew every escape route. Not that he’d ever
had to use them. The Sawgrass area he called home didn’t meet the standards of
Tracara, the home of the ancient warrior, Laz.

It
was a full moon and Braden intended to run free. He had his sights set on
killing the largest prey on the land, and nothing was going to stop him. He had
become a master at killing, and the lingering scent of death permeating the air
only served to drive the beast inside him wild. From the time he first set foot
on the forbidden land, he wanted to claim it as his own, but that was a
delusion that would never see the light of day. No one outside of his family
knew his true identity. Not even the people closest to him he considered
friends. His parent had sworn him to secrecy from the time he was a child, and
he had kept the secret safe for nearly ten years, but it was becoming harder
and harder to deny his true self.

“You
can’t fight it son,” his grandfather had told him several times. “It’s in your
blood, and no matter how you fight against it, you won’t feel normal until you
take your first victim.”

Braden
hadn’t wanted to believe he was capable of killing. He had never killed
anything in his life, and the desire to do so never fell upon him. But then one
night everything changed. He had been south of Tracara running in the wild when
he came up on two strange scents. Young and eager to prove himself, he decided
to have some fun, but lost control and gave into his urges. As a result, two
men died. It wasn’t until a week later he learned who they were. The two men
belonged to a neighboring tribe and vowed revenge. Because he was only a kid,
no one would ever suspect him. But then the tribe got word of a young lad who
considered himself a king and figured he could be the culprit. One afternoon they
questioned the grandfather and he admitted to the murders. He was fatally
executed.

After
the massacre, Braden vowed never to shift again. His father had blamed him, and
his mother had become afraid of him. All that remained was pain. Of all the
people in his family, his grandfather was the only one to understand what he
went through every night.

In
the years after his grandfather’s death, Braden tried to resist the beast
living inside him, but he was no match for the powerful need fighting to be
released. On the fifth anniversary of his grandfather’s death, he transformed
and killed at will. He survived by his own rules and the volatile temper he’d
developed only made matters worst. His father had warned him again to stay away
from Tracara, but he ignored his words and went about life as if he was
untouchable. Nothing would stop him, not even the self-professed king of
Tracara. Sure he was young and inexperienced, but what he lacked he’d make up
by way of strength and intelligence and use it to his advantage.

“If
Laz ever finds you on his property, he will kill you.” The father said to him
with almost a smirk on his face. Perhaps he wanted him to be killed. Braden
wasn’t sure who to trust or what to believe.

All
his life people had told him it would be death to look upon the old warrior. He
had been hunting for years and hadn’t come close to seeing the King. Braden
disregarded all of them, and had no intention of changing his hunting ground.
This great King had never once shown his face, and over the years he had begun
to believe it was only a myth conjured up by his father to keep him from
digging in his claws and living the carefree life he was unable to live.

As
he drifted deeper into the forest, the itching sensation began to crawl beneath
his skin and the animal in him was bursting to get out. He peeled off his
shirt, and then his jeans, and then his shoes. His body contorted viciously and
took on the form of a regal master. His hands and feet became paws, his teeth,
sharp daggers inside his mouth. He fell forward in his cat-like pose and
sprinted deeper into grassy marsh. Fur covered his body and his short mane was
resemblance of an adolescent cub. The glare from the moon guided him through
the forest and led him to his pick of unsuspecting prey. It was feeding time.

He
crotched down in his stance and moved along the ground to get closer to the
prey grazing in the nearby pasture. A surge of adrenaline shot through him and
as he prepared to seize the moment, he began to feel uneasy. There was a shift
in the air tonight and it warned him he was not the only predator hunting
tonight. The light of the moon vanished and all that remained was loud silence.
Braden felt his heart pound in his chest and listened to the sounds of an
unfamiliar growl in the distance.

Had
he made a fatal mistake?

An
ominous feeling clouded over him and he gasped. The roar had closed in on him
and was only a few feet behind him. Instinctively he knew he’d gone too far,
and worst yet, he was in enemy territory. He had pushed himself past his
limits, and with certainty he knew he was no longer the predator, but the prey.
He was being stalked.

In
that moment, he realized the tales were true and he was about to come face to
face with pure evil.

*
* * *

Laz
had watched the youngster parade around on his turf as if he were King of
Tracara for many years now. He was surprised at the brazen behavior of one so
immature. No one had dared trespass on his land and hunt. He had picked up the
scent almost immediately when the intruder crossed into his territory. Instead
of hunting, he decided to trail a few paces behind. He wanted to watch the
young lad in action. Although he was much older, Laz knew when he shifted into
the beast there was no one capable of defeating him. The painful contortions his
body endured no longer affected him. He had learned to suffer the
transformation in silence. His body, sleek and muscular, four inch canine teeth
bursting through his gums, his skin covered with brownish fur and his hair
flared out atop of his head projecting a king’s mane. During his reign many
opponents had challenged him, but he had proven he was a true king and defeated
them all, proudly wearing his scars like trophies.

Once
the transformation was complete, he set his sights on the intruder. His fore-fathers
had taught him everything he needed to know, but also explained the importance
of having a trusting companion. Several times he thought he’d found the perfect
marshal, but he was mistaken. The only interest in those he’d chosen was the
land he owned and the power he possessed. For years he had lived a solitary
life, but the sun was quickly setting on his time and he needed a viable
lieutenant to continue his legacy and make it far stronger than he or his
ancestors ever had. As he continued following Braden, something told him the
youngster had the killer instinct and would be perfect as ruler and future
king.

Deep
inside of him, he felt a kinship of sort and it awakened a fire that had not
since existed before tonight. Surprise reverence combined with white hot fervor
shot through him, and he couldn’t help being drawn into the mystery. Within
striking distance, he decided to wait until the cover of darkness lifted. He
wanted to view the brave soldier before killing him, or perhaps giving him the
keys to his kingdom.

*
* * *

Braden
tried to disappear into the brush, but before he could get out of harm’s way,
something attacked him and slammed him to the ground. He fought against the
weight, but the agility of his attacker shocked him. A mass of flesh and bones,
together their bodies twisted and turned, their growls growing louder and
filling the dark night. He struck the large head coming down on him, but it was
a futile gesture. For his efforts, teeth gnashed at his body and he howled in
pain. He decided if he was going to be killed, he’d rather he go down fighting
and refused to give in.

On
his back, Braden glimpsed seemingly familiar eyes and found a comfort he’d
known only once in his life. He rolled over and lowered his head in submission.
The larger male continued to circle him and roar in victory. It wasn’t until he
transformed into his human form did the roaring cease. His entire body ached
not with pain, but a desire unheard of in his lifetime.

Then
suddenly, the beast transformed into human form and Braden stared in amazement.
The beast was a man of substantial age.

“What
are you waiting for?” Braden asked immediately. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”

The
warrior extended his hand, “It wouldn’t have been a fair fight kid.”

“I
think I held my own.”

The
warrior laughed. “I could have killed you instantly.”

“Why
didn’t you?” Braden asked and stood feet from the warrior. “I’ve heard the
stories about you. You’re the most ruthless killer anyone has ever known. Why
didn’t you kill me like you killed the rest?”

“I
need you,” Laz said quietly.

“You
need me,” Braden repeated. “Why? For what exactly?”

“I’ll
tell you all about when I get you home,” Laz answered and headed into the
forest.

“Home?”

“Yes,”
Laz snarled. “Come.”

Braden
didn’t move an inch. He wasn’t sure what was going on or if he wanted to know.
Before he could ascertain the truce, the warrior had called out to him again
and the firmness in his voice told Braden it was a command.

It
didn’t take long for Braden to make a decision, he turned from a world he’d
always known to a world that held many possibilities.

CHAPTER ONE – THE APPETIZER

In
Tracara, death is inevitable.

In
Tracara, death is swift.

In
Tracara, death is power.

The
foul stench of betrayal scented the air like thick perfume and the howl of
death cried out for release. High above the plains, vultures circled the earth
and watched. They had a sixth sense of knowing when death was looming.

Tonight
the brutal killer would live up to his name. The King of Tracara was on a
mission not to seize, but to kill and send a message. Betrayal would not be
tolerated from anyone.

Didn’t
they know he’d come for them? Of course they knew.

As
he went forth, he had only one purpose in mind. Kill. He transformed from a man
into the stealth beast and stalked the open plains of Tracara until he reached
the outer edges of his kingdom. The whole of his existence was filled with
rage. Tonight the jungle would flow red. A supreme killing machine, the King
was unstoppable and unforgiving. At the corners of his mouth, a thick, white
froth gathered and his dagger-like claws raked against the large oak tree. On
the inside he howled with anguish, however, the outward façade he would display
would tell his enemies of their certain demise.

The
corrosion of deceit destroyed him and with each breath he breathed it left a
permanent scar on his tortured soul. He crawled on his belly through the brush
and prepared for battle, bile and disgust ravishing his body.

His
sanctuary had been breached. His trust misplaced.

He
could hear them, smell them, and coincidentally the wind disguised his
presence.

He
had long suspected his loyal companion would one day betray him, and instead of
promptly killing him, he allowed him to live and grow confident in his
treachery and treason.

The
thicket of tall grass camouflaged his presence and provided momentary
concealment as the night moon once hidden by the clouds blazed brightly and
lifted the cover of darkness.

In
the midst of their collusion, neither noticed the King as he approached. Once
spotted, the two froze and gazed upon him in fear. The one begged for mercy.
The other seemed content with the outcome of events.

The
King snarled and flashed his sharp canines. The revelation drove him passed
insanity and quickly he pounced. He ambushed them both, killing one and sparing
the other for reasons he could not understand. The first kill satisfied his
thirst for blood. The second would sate his soul. He had learned revenge could
be a powerful drug, and tonight it would assure his dominance.